I am

going to be critical of all poetry I birth from 

tomorrow morning up until 

the night they mourn me. I am 

going to understand that comparison does me no favours

and still open the door to the matrix

when it comes knocking, black hat removed

and held by its side. I am

going to sip tea in a darkened space

with failure, more times than 

celebratory corks will ricochet. I am 

sceptical of having money; when having money

is an easy substitute for being wealthy. I am

rich if everyone I cherish is around a table,

sipping tea alongside me. I am 

appreciative of potluck light. I am,

in spite of everything, choosing not to 

waste away afraid of the organic mistake. I am

here to create, here to love, here to be,

here to stay.

© Mollie Mardel